My favorite song from '1989' would have to be "Style". This is not necessarily because it's an absolute bop (even though it 100% is), but because it's now forever associated with one of my favorite memories from my freshman year of college. When I started university, I was having difficulty adjusting and being outgoing enough to meet new people - I was just very overwhelmed with the experience of becoming fully independent. My one single grounding point was basketball. I loved the sport and was lucky enough to be able to be recruited to play varsity. However, I was still a bit uneasy with the others on the team - from being the only new recruit to not actually having a basketball scholarship. I mostly kept to myself during the first few weeks of conditioning, occasionally joining in conversation but feeling weirdly out of place. Before our first game of the season, one of the girls was blasting music in the locker room to get everyone hyped - everyone minded their business while rap played in the background. Then all of the sudden, "Style" started playing, and everyone locked eyes with each other. The whole room turned into a karaoke dance club, with everyone yelling the lyrics as loud as they could, jumping and stomping around. At the time, it seemed like I was in a montage from something like "Pitch Perfect", and to be honest, I didn't really care how it looked in reality. It was the first time I felt really at peace since starting college, and it ended up being the catalyst for me becoming really good friends with the other girls on my team. It ended up becoming a tradition - before every game, we had to listen to Taylor Swift or something akin to her. It was the only music that would get us all in the same headspace before a game. Even though I am no longer on the team, I am still really close with all the girls and always go out with them. And when Taylor Swift comes on, it is like we all immediately go back to the locker room in our minds, singing our hearts out. Every time I pop this album on my record player or if it comes up on shuffle through Spotify, I always think of that moment. It is somewhat bittersweet, as I ended up saying goodbye to a sport I loved, but it reminds me of when I finally was able to step out of my shell.

For most of my life, I have been terrified of heights. Of course, I was okay if I felt secure, like on a plane looking out the window or staring out at the city line multiple stories up in a building. However, staring over a railing, with the ground far away to where people look like insects, made me lose myself in fear. I had always been envious of those who weren’t affected - climbing up high, fearlessly staring down at the abyss. It seemed so effortless to them to face it head-on. They had the confidence that I didn’t have, that everything would be fine despite the separation from the ground, from promised safety. Throughout high school and entering college, my lack of confidence also crept into other aspects of life, giving me severe imposter syndrome. I still couldn’t understand how others got through the courses, clubs, and research cycle without feeling inadequate. Then one summer, I decided to take a leap of faith and apply to a prestigious summer program at another university. I was selected! I was so scared but so excited - overwhelmed with so many emotions. Once I had arrived, I was introduced to the rock-climbing wall in the gym. It rose three stories up, with the floors above making way to the wall. Imbued with what little confidence I gained from entering the program, I decided that by the end of the summer, I would make it to the top. I made it a habit to hit the gym after every workday. The first time I attempted the wall, I barely made it 10 feet off the ground without freaking out – my arms shaking and my muscles locked. I had made friends with those running the wall, who easily climbed and challenged themselves each time they went up. I wanted them to hold me accountable, and they did – climbing up with me on my subsequent attempts, slowly adding inches to my personal best. As I improved my record each time, my confidence grew, not just in the physical embodiment of climbing but in other arenas. I seemed to be able to present more efficiently for research and more willing to make independent calls – I saw that I began to trust myself more. By the end of the 10-week program, I reached the top of the wall three times. Since returning to my university, I have been able to apply the confidence gained in full – taking on leadership positions in clubs and becoming team lead for my design projects. I have even signed on to continue graduate school, researching a new exciting field of tissue engineering for space-based applications. Without pushing myself to climb physically and mentally, I don’t think I would have thought of myself as capable of moving beyond undergraduate-level courses. This scholarship will enable me to continue growing and working on my research throughout graduate school without any financial stress. It will allow me to produce a quality thesis paper, not having to worry about how I will pay off tuition for the coming year. Thank you for reading my story, and I hope you consider me for this scholarship to help me continue to climb through academia.

I have witnessed my mother's tenacity and drive as an immigrant from the Philippines here in the U.S. my whole life. With each milestone I achieved, she also met one. While I studied Florida American History in the second grade, she studied the inner workings of American Politics for her Citizenship Test. While I worked my way through algebra and other math courses in middle school, she worked alongside me late nights studying for her algebra exam for her G.E.D. As I wrote book report after book report, she practiced her English with my sister and me. While America pushes for individuality and independence, the communal nature and togetherness spirit of Pinoy culture remained a beacon in my home. I was always Ate to the dozens of little kids running around my house at parties, the dinner table covered in various dishes for this week’s potluck. There was always a new Tito or Tita welcomed into our home. This system of family made me feel secure here in the States, like I always had someone to depend on. Regardless of the beauty of the culture my mother was raised in and in turn raised me in, she never forgot to remind me the purpose of her journey to the States. Remarks when looking at the food in our fridge, when a treat was bought, when we would send boxes of essentials back to family still on the other side of the world. Whenever a report card came in, a basketball game won, another club joined, would bring a smile to her face – it brought her peace knowing that we would be able to further our education beyond what she was able to do. Throughout life, my mother pushed me to pursue a degree in STEM – when she was in her last years of education in the Philippines, she loved everything science and math. She wanted me to help better society for people all over – she was always the first to volunteer help, even cooking over a thousand lumpia for my basketball fundraiser. Her values bled into me, and chemical engineering seemed like the ideal major to pursue – so diverse in application, ranging from health science to environmental studies. The fight I have seen my mother and family conduct my whole life will always influence how I go about life – not afraid to ask for help when needed, be the first to offer assistance without the idea of a reward, and to find my little community wherever I go. I hope to never lose sight of these values that my Filipino background has instilled in me.

I have witnessed my mother's tenacity and drive as an immigrant from the Philippines here in the U.S. my whole life. With each milestone I achieved, she also met one. While I studied Florida American History in the second grade, she studied the inner workings of American Politics for her Citizenship Test. While I worked my way through algebra and other math courses in middle school, she worked alongside me late nights studying for her algebra exam for her G.E.D. As I wrote book report after book report, she practiced her English with my sister and me. While America pushes for individuality and independence, the communal nature and togetherness spirit of Pinoy culture remained a beacon in my home. Regardless of the beauty of the culture my mother was raised in and in turn raised me in, she never forgot to remind me the purpose of her journey to the States. Remarks when looking at the food in our fridge, when a treat was bought, when we would send boxes of essentials back to family still on the other side of the world. Whenever a report card came in, a basketball game won, another club joined, would bring a smile to her face – it brought her peace knowing that we would be able to further our education beyond what she was able to do. Throughout life, my mother pushed me to pursue a degree in STEM – when she was in her last years of education in the Philippines, she loved everything science and math. She wanted me to help better society for people all over – she was always the first to volunteer help, even cooking over a thousand lumpia for my basketball fundraiser. Her values bled into me, and chemical engineering seemed like the ideal major to pursue – so diverse in application, ranging from health science to environmental studies. The fight I have seen my mother and family conduct my whole life will always influence how I go about life – not afraid to ask for help when needed, be the first to offer assistance without the idea of a reward, and to find my little community wherever I go. I hope to never lose sight of these values that my Filipino background has instilled in me.